Money For Old Rope
by Silver-Squirrel
Summary: So I, a young, brilliant, talented, dark-horse-esque Australian girl, head off to Italy to attend one of the world's greatest mafia schools. The punchline: I am not brilliant, talented, or dark-horse-esque. I am, however, indisputably female. OC.
1. Chapter 1

Mojiretsu.

That's my name, my pride and joy. What set me apart from the rest. What made me, _me._

PFFT. You know, sometimes I think that parents spend that _glorious_ nine months before the birth of their personal angel just thinking of ways to ruin its life. Because what benevolent human being would name their beloved daughter _string_. Well not really, but Mojiretsu literally means 'string' so it comes down to the same thing.

But, since I had lived most of my life in Australia, people had yet to stumbled upon THAT little gem. You see, my parents migrated south for the warmer climates of Australia after their house in Seoul had flooded (one year before my birth). Mum, a Japanese lady from the Kyushu region, met my father on an exchange program to South Korea when she was eighteen. Oh, young love. So I landed the beautiful name combination of 'Mojiretsu' and 'Park'. Mojiretsu Park. Oh, I could spend _hours _on this topic. 22 hours on a plane from Hobart to Rome gives you that kind of time.

SPEAKING OF:

Another little scheme with the _obvious _goal of _destroying my life_ was the three weeks' notice I got before they up and sent me off to mafia school at the age of 14. In _Italy._

During these three weeks I discovered that my father's family was a prominent member of the South Korean Kkangpae, or Korean mafia gang, Ssang Yong Pa. You might know it as Double Dragon. Although, if you do, expect not to wake up in the morning because they're supposed to be _way_ underground at the moment and knowledge of them is kept strictly on the down-low. Not even Dad knows what they're up to.

Anyway, back to my life story. Where was I? Ah, yes, wallowing in self pity. Oh, woe is me, woe is me…

It's not all bad news though. While I was going to a goddamn _mafia_ school, it's a very good quality mafia school. I've heard that even the Vongola family sends its mafia children there! You have to admit, it's impressive. Gotta look on the bright side sometimes.

All in all, upon arrival in Italy I think the most difficult decision I had to make was what language classes I wanted to take in mafia school. It was mandatory to take at least two, as all Mafioso were required to be trilingual (sometimes it was necessary to deliver death threats in multiple languages). Those aiming even higher- say, like, _Varia_ higher, had to learn _eight_ languages –_minimum-_ in the scant five years of mafia school. Mum and Dad prepared me well for this, at least. I was fluent in English and Korean, proficient in Japanese and had been given a crash course in Italian before leaving. Luckily, most classes in 'Scuola di italiano di preparazione': Italian Preparatory School, were taught in English. So, I chose to study Japanese, Mandarin Chinese and Russian. Relatively easy choices considering that I'd overheard that one student had chosen to study Russian, Cantonese, Japanese, English and _Icelandic_. To begin with, what the hell do you need Icelandic for?! Does Iceland even _have_ mafia? And it's like the most difficult language on Earth to boot. What did they say his name was? _Superbi Squalo_ or something like that? Poor kid, his parents must secretly hate him too.

I hear you buddy, I hear you….

* * *

MAYBE WE CAN BE FRIENDS!

* * *

**Author's Note: I know this is really short, but I had a really good idea! And I was short on time, but I also wanted to get this out there really quickly to see what you guys think! So with their powers combined…**

**I expect to have a bit more free time later on, so the next chapter will definitely be longer… and better. This is **_**intended**_** to eventually, I repeat **_**EVENTUALLY**_** become a Xanxus/OC fiction, but I wouldn't put it past me to betray myself and make it a Squalo/OC fic because they're both so freakin' amazing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm know that Mojiretsu is very immature right now and that can come across as quite annoying, but please bare with me! She'll grow up quickly after a little while in Mafia School, swearsies!  
I don't actually know how Italian schools work, so I'm modeling it after my own school. If anyone can help me out, please do! ^.^" ****Also, I have thrown some references to random things in here! Do you recognize any?  
P.S I don't actually know Korean or Japanese, just what Google Translate tells me. Help me if you can please? (I'm glad to inform you that I can actually speak English... most of the time).**

"Italian speech"

"_English speech"_

_Thoughts_

* * *

Scientists spend years getting paid by the government proving and disproving scientific theories. Yet here I lay, doing it in the space of a day for absolutely nothing (except for pain, but I think that's only standard currency in the Land of 50 Shades). I, have just disproved Darwinism. Survival of the fittest? _PLEASE. _If that little theory had any merit there is no way I would be here right now. With little weasel biceps and a nose that's been known to bleed on contact with pillows (hell, I strained my arm muscles doing rhythmic boxing on Wii Fit), I nearly got shot _four times_ just carting my stuff from the reception office to my dorm room. And I'm still a bit sketchy on the details of this one, but I'm _pretty sure _I was nearly blown up.

But that's all water under the bridge. There are, in total, five dormitories with two floors each, and ten rooms on each floor with showers and toilets at the end of the bottom floor. The dorms are mixed, but each room has to be either male-male or female-female. Holed up safe and sound in my room (the co-ordinates of which being dorm 3, no. 15) I took the time to explore a little bit. Not that there was a great deal to explore. Two beds were at the back of the room, divided by a window, with a set of drawers on the outer side of each. There was a three-seater couch against the left side of the room and a little bench that had a microwave and a sink on the right.

Obviously, I've been roomed with an invalid because they have their stuff spread out all over both of the beds. Like they owned the place. _Psh_. Given that the right bed had a larger concentration of crap I assumed that the left one was mine and went ahead and swept all the stuff off it. Fixing up the blanket, I kicked a few stray objects back over to the right side of the room. _Not today, Stalin. Not today. _Dragging my suitcases over to my drawers, I shoved the bag containing shoes and toiletries under my bed and set about unpacking my actual clothes.

_***SLAM**__*_

I won't lie, I had a baby heart attack. The door had slammed shut (I hadn't even noticed it opening to be honest) and standing there in all her glory, was my roommate. Frozen and staring, I noticed that she had pretty red hair tied up in a pretty bun with strands here and there framing her pretty face. She was tall, much taller than my shorty-McShort self. She was wearing a pretty white shirt with pretty boots and a pretty black skirt that complemented her pretty, pale legs. _I'm sorry; we can never be friends ever because you're prettier than I am. And your mere presence replaces every adjective I know with the word '_pretty_'. I can't handle that._

She stared back at me for a while, and I couldn't help but notice a red flush beginning to creep up her neck. She must be angry that I pushed all her stuff on the ground so carelessly. A guilty weight formed in my chest and I glanced at her things nervously.

"I'm sorry," she breathed in fluent Italian, which I'm guessing is her native tongue. "I think you've got the wrong room, this is a girl's room." I continued to stare at her while I pieced together what she'd said using my rudimentary knowledge of Italian.

_***Stare**__*…_

_*Stare*…_

_***Stare**__*…_

That little _MOLE!_

"NO MISTAKE! I GIRL!"

"Oh I'm- Sorry what?" the girl did a double take.

"나에게 얘기하지 마세요!" (Don't talk to me!)

"I'm so sorry! You really do look like a boy-"

"난 얘기하지 말랬 잖아!" (I said don't talk!) I yelled at her in Korean and I pointed angrily at her side of the room, even though it really had nothing to do with our predicament. If she wasn't going to recognise my gender, then by God I was _not_ going to recognise her language! ...Okay, so I'm a bit petty, but I'm really sensitive about my appearance! So what if my chest was a _little_ bit flat and my short hair style _could _be construed as being masculine, that's just how I liked to look! What'cha gonna do?

"What? I don't speak Chine-"

"네 엄마 버스입니다!"(Your mum is a bus!)

* * *

After a five minute (totally one-sided) screaming match with the pretty girl, she left. I unpacked the rest of my things and pulled out some Italian language guides. I'll admit that I was highly suspicious of her, so I carefully labeled all of my food stuffs in plain English with "Property of Mojiretsu Park" and hoped that the unwritten "Touch and die" would be implied. I really hoped that while she was away she would get some gender-savvy.

I laid myself out across the couch (painfully aware that I barely took up three quarters of it whereas the red-haried girl would have taken up the three seats and an armrest to boot) and stretched, while trying to read my Italian Phrases book at the same time. I swear, _just _as I had snuggled to the most comfortable position manageable on an unfamiliar couch, the door opened. _UGH, great. Litte miss Can't-tell-the-difference-between-a-male-and-a-female is back. She's the only other person who has a _key_, after all. _

_"_So, can you please tell her in Chinese that I'm sorry for calling her a boy?"

"You sure that's not a boy?" said a- wait a second. A male voice said that. I sat up from my couch heaven.

"SILENCE! I GIRL!" My voice was probably going to go hoarse from doing so much yelling, but my Italian would probably benefit from it. "귀하의 이상한 친구들이 우리 방으로 가져 오지 마세요!" (Don't bring your weird friends into our room!). Although I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like the view. The boy she'd bought with her was tall and well built, but he looked about our age. He had wild black hair that was only a bit shorter than my own (though I'm proud to say that my hair was much tamer), along with tanned skin and... um, red eyes. This guy's got red eyes. WHO CARES? HOT GUY!

"SHUTTUP!" the hot guy yelled, presumably at me. Being that there was no one else in the room, that was the logical conclusion... He turned to the red-haired girl. "She's speaking Korean, not Chinese, you SCUM!" Ohhh this hot guy is really scary. I'm pretty sure my confidence visibly deflated and I sunk into the couch to make myself look smaller.

"젠장, 당신은 한국 알아?" (Oh crap, you understand Korean?) Before anyone else could speak, I added: "...何が日本人はどうですか？" (What bout Japanese?).

"OF COURSE I KNOW JAPANESE!" Okay, at this point I was pretty much hiding behind the armrest.

"..._English?_" He threw a vase at me. I won't pretend to know where it came from. My best guess is that his stunning good looks grant him powers that we mortals know not.

"I'M FUTURE TENTH BOSS OF THE VONGOLA, I KNOW ALL THESE SHITTY LANGUAGES!" He turned back to the red-haired girl. "DON'T WASTE MY TIME, TRASH!" He pushed the girl into our room and pulled the door shut as he left. To be frank I'm surprised the poor thing didn't break in two. (The door, that is). The girl didn't bother to get off the ground but she sat herself up into a more respectable position.

"..._So, you speak English_?" She said cooly, as though _nothing_ had just occurred. If I hadn't been a natural English speaker, I wouldn't have been able to understand her horrible Italian accent. I really hopes my Italian wasn't that hard to understand, but knowing my luck...

"_Hmph. Yes. I'm Australian._" I huffed.

"_Well why did you not say so?!_" She exclaimed. I don't know, I think I made her angry...

"_You didn't ask." _I laid back down on the couch and crossed my arms moodily. I glared at my Italian Phrases book that I'd sat next to my head on the armrest. _I forgot what page I was on. "Before you move, I have two requests. But you don't get a choice, so consider them orders. Follow them if you want this living arrangement to be __peaceful. 1) Don't talk to me unless you have to. And 2) Don't touch my stuff. I have the left side of everything, by the way." _The red-haired girl look absolutely affronted.

"_Who do you think you are, making such demands-" _I cut her off._  
_

_"And a third thing," _I said, holding up three fingers lazily to make sure she got it.

"_What is it?" _She near growled. Wow, feisty.

_"Only bring hot guys in here if they're the non-angry, pacifist type."_ The girl looked confused, then she smirked and relaxed a little bit.

_"I can do that. My name is Renata, by the way." _I mentally 'tsh'd. Pretty girl, pretty name, should have know.

_"My name's Mojiretsu Park. Who was that hot guy just now? A friends of yours?"_ I asked her.

_"No, he is more like an... __acquaintance, maybe? We are from the same_ famiglia._ He is the son of the Ninth Vongola Boss. He is called Xanxus."_

* * *

**:O :O :O Xanxus is introduced! And probably really OOC. I don't know why, but I find it really difficult to get a good hold on a personality just from reading it (I've only _read_ Hitman Reborn). I need to hear their voices! But... I really hope that this was okay.  
I finished my exams (and my schooling year, yay!) last week, but I'm starting full time work next week. So, I'm not really sure when the next update will be. Hopefully sooner than I think! ^_^  
I want to thank everyone who reviewed! It means so much and it's really encouraging.  
That said, please review! Thoughts, feedback, a plain ol' smiley face...**


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